Friezes on the Plains of Ilion
by The Disembodied Voice
Summary: VERY much still a work-in-progress--this is a play I would like to write. It's a series of scenes from Homer's Iliad that are pasted together back-to-back. The only scene, or frieze, I have written is one that will eventually be in the middle--the final


Author's note: This scene is adapted from Book 6 of Homer's Iliad. I specifically used Stanley Lombardo's translation (since I have yet to wrangle a Greek class out of my college). Also: I would rather italicize the stage actions in parenthesis, but I'm too busy (lazy) to convert this to an .html file for the moment.  
  
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Frieze 9  
  
Hector and Andromache  
  
ANDRO: (Runs up to catch Hector as he exits, followed by a  
member of the CHORUS who is holding a child.) Hector!  
HECTOR: Andromache. (Holds out his arms, and she embraces  
him tightly.) I was searching for you.  
ANDRO: I have been upon these walls these past hours.  
HECTOR: And what have you seen?  
ANDRO: The Greeks are strong, while we are pressed. (Pause,  
and suddenly cries.)  
You must be possessed, husband! I beg of you, as your beloved  
wife, do not go out there to battle again!  
HECTOR: (Pulls her back gently, looking into her face.)  
Would you have me dishonored in front of the entire Trojan army?  
Would you have everyone in Ilion whisper "coward!" as I pass,  
the way they do Paris?  
ANDRO: Your courage will kill you! Have you no feelings  
for me? I, who will be left a widow, or even for your little  
boy? (She turns away from him and steps away, hugging her arms  
to herself) It won't be long before the Greeks kill you. And  
then what? When I lose you, Hector, there will be nothing left  
for me, no one to turn to.only pain. You know very well how  
Achilles killed my father when he destroyed Thebes, burned him  
and all his armor, and my seven brothers too, all gone down to  
Hades in one day. You know how he took my Queen Mother  
prisoner, how we paid a fortune in ransom to rescue her, only to  
have her die in our house, shot by Artemis' arrows.  
Hector, you are not only my dear husband, you are my father, my  
mother, my brother. You are all I have.don't make me a widow,  
and Astyanax an orphan. Please stay, and station your men near  
the wall that the Greeks often try to scale. Where you'll be  
safe.  
HECTOR: (Gently.) Yes, love.I worry too. But how could I  
stay back? How could I face the other men and their wives if I  
hung back and let the others die for me? I've been trained  
since birth to fight valiantly in the front ranks.it is not  
merely my own honor that rests upon it, but that of my father's.  
(ANDROMACHE turns away again, burying her face in her hands.)  
Andromache!.my Andromache.please try to understand. (He pauses,  
then finally says slowly and quietly:) Dearest.I know.in my  
heart of hearts, I know that Ilion will fall.along with all of  
its people. But the pain I will feel for my father, my mother,  
even for my fine brothers who by then will have all died by  
Greek swords.that pain is nothing compared to the pain I will  
feel for you when some Greek soldier rips our child from your  
arms.when some foreign leads you away, weeping, away to be his  
slave.when you toil over some other woman's loom in an alien,  
faraway land.this I cannot bear. (Fiercely, his voice wrought  
with emotion) I would sooner be dead and defiled than helpless  
to respond to those cries!  
(She turns back and clings to him, weeping softly. HECTOR  
holds her close and rests his cheek on her head, turning his  
face away from the audience. After a moment, the child makes a  
sound, and the both turn and look at him. HECTOR reaches for  
him, and the NURSE holds the child out, but before he takes it,  
he pauses and removes his helmet, drawing a tearful smile from  
both HECTOR and ANDROMACHE. He swings the child up in his arms,  
holding him above his head and speaks as if in prayer.)  
HECTOR: Zeus and all gods of Olympia, grant me this prayer.  
Let my son became like me, first among all Trojans, and let him  
surpass me in deed and word, so when the poets speak of the  
greatest Trojan, they will say, "Astyanax, son of Hector." (He  
looks at Andromache.) And let him return victorious from all his  
battles with the glory and spoils of kings, so his mother may  
rejoice and take pride.  
ANDRO: (She smiles a shaky smile to him as he hands the  
child to her and presses him to her chest. They both know what  
the future really holds, but both cling to the fantasy.) See  
how he clings to his father's armor. He takes to it naturally,  
and will be a prop for us both in our old age. (Her voice  
trembles, and she looks at Hector, who immediately wraps his  
strong arms around them both and kisses her forehead.)  
HECTOR: Put your heart to rest, dear heart. King or  
peasant, coward or hero, fate finds us all when the time comes,  
whether it be in the midst of battle or safe in bed. (They kiss  
softly. HECTOR dons his helmet, looks once more at Andromache  
and his son, then strides resolutely off Left.) 


End file.
